


Must Do Something About It

by MartianMadness66



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: ABO, Abuse warning, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, An OC - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, beatles friendships will be strong in this one, eventual mclennon, everyone is protective of paul, here we go again, paul loves them but wants them to fuck off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:41:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartianMadness66/pseuds/MartianMadness66
Summary: Paul's life has changed a lot in the five years that he's been with his Alpha. He loves his son unconditionally, but his Mate is terrible. After finding out he's pregnant, he decides to hell with this piece of shit life, I'm gonna go out and get me some stability! And that's exactly what he does.





	1. I've Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> why am i writing this i have 3 wips

Paul stared at the little pink stick in his hand, shaking while his heart seemed to stop. Fuck. There was no way he could do this again.

He dropped his head into his hands, trying desperately not to cry. Jesus, what the hell was he going to do? He could hardly afford to raise the kid he already had, let alone another one. And, _shit_, what was he going to tell Mason? He couldn’t help the soft sob that forced its way past his throat. He already knew how that conversation would go. He cried quietly into his elbow as he curled in on himself until he heard the door open and had to force himself to shut up.

He sniffled and wiped his eyes. It was no use crying about it, especially with another person present. Besides, his shift was over, and he had to be there to pick up Jamie from school. He took a deep, shaky breath, threw the pregnancy test away, and quietly left the bathroom stall he’d been hiding in for the last half hour to wash his hands. As he was drying his hands, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Red eyes, pale, sunken cheeks, and a large purple bruise blooming across his left cheek. He shuddered.

\--

Paul shivered against the cold as he stood with the other parents, waiting for the school day to be over. His coat (if it could even be called that) certainly wasn’t intended for freezing temperatures and had been worn down by years of use to the point where the left sleeve was hardly anything more than a couple of strings clinging desperately to each other. Another gust of wind came, and Paul tensed his shoulders against it, shivering hard. He couldn’t have been more grateful when he finally saw the kids moving across the yard. He waited impatiently for Jamie to come to him, trying to stub down his anxiety for the confrontation he’d be having with his Alpha later. There was no need for Jamie to be worried. He forced a smile to his face as Jamie’s familiar messy dark hair came into view.

“Hi, Mummy,” Jamie said quietly, moving forward to carefully latch on to Paul’s legs. Paul’s smile became genuine as he leaned down to hug his son. “Hey, sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Jamie’s forehead before standing up and holding his hand out for the boy to take. “How was school?”

Jamie swung their hands as they began walking to the bus stop. “It was okay, but Helen was kind of mean.”

Paul squeezed Jamie’s hand reassuringly. “Uh-oh. What did she do?”

Jamie’s lip wobbled. “She-“ He broke off, sniffling. Paul stopped walking and quickly knelt down to lift Jamie into his arms. He gently nuzzled Jamie’s cheek as he started walking again. “What did she say, Luv?”

Jamie sniffled, wrapping his arms around Paul’s neck as he nosed at Paul’s cheek. “She said that-that you were, um- that you were a whore and that-that-“ He broke off again, this time breaking fully into tears.

Despite how much that statement hurt, he knew whatever Jamie said next would be worse. He rubbed Jamie’s back as they moved. “Sh, Luv, it’s alright, it’s alright. What else did she say?”

Through his teary, garbled words, Paul picked out that this little girl had heavily implied that Paul didn’t want his son. He saw the bus stop up ahead and quietly reined in his own hurt so that he could properly take care of his son.

“Jamie, you listen to me, alright?” Paul said, firmly but gently, once they got to the stop. “You are my pride and joy. I love you with everything I am, okay? You’re my favorite person, and, as it turns out, you’re my favorite son, too.”

Jamie giggled wetly against Paul’s neck and pulled back. “I’m your only son,” he said softly, and Paul was relieved to see the smile on his face.

“Well, I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he said teasingly, booping Jamie quickly on the nose. Jamie laid his head back down on Paul’s shoulder, shivering a little against the wind. “What’s a whore?” He asked quietly.

Paul felt a brief surge of anger at that little girl and the parents that probably said it first, but Paul stamped it down before it could become something more dangerous, the kind of frustration he felt sometimes when he thought about where the hell his life had gone.

He tightened his hold on Jamie. “It’s a mean word, Jamie. I don’t want to hear you saying it, okay?”

“But what does it mean?” He insisted.

Paul sighed and kissed Jamie’s temple. “I’ll tell you later, Luv. Just remember it’s a word you shouldn’t say.”

On the bus ride home, Jamie talked his ear off, forcing Paul to focus intently on listening because, despite his anxiety over his – _situation_ – he knew that the second they walked into their building, Jamie would shut up and it would be unlikely he’d be able to get him to speak again. Guilt surged through him. His son was the most important thing to him in the world. Why did he keep him in such a dangerous environment?

\--

“Jamie, sweetheart, why don’t you go play in your room? I’ll bring you your dinner when it’s done.”

Jamie clung tighter to Paul’s legs, glancing nervously at the door.

“Is daddy in a bad mood?” he whispered, voice slightly shaky.

Paul leaned down and kissed Jamie’s forehead. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he murmured, gently lifting the boy into his arms. “But, I have to talk to him and I’m not sure how it’s going to go.” He moved quickly across the flat to Jamie’s room (really little more than a closet) where he placed Jamie on his bed, trying to ignore those big, fearful eyes. His heart dropped, guilt once again accompanying his anxiety. He gently cupped Jamie’s cheek. “Baby, I don’t want you involved. No matter what happens, you stay in here, okay?”

Jamie’s eyes started to get wet. “Okay,” he whispered.

Paul’s heart broke. He got up and ran to his room to grab his laptop and headphones, bringing them back to Jamie where he was still sat on his bed, crying quietly.

“Oh, baby,” Paul whispered, feeling teary himself. He sat down and scooped Jamie into his arms, rocking him gently until the tears stopped. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise. You just stay in here and watch some YouTube. Look, I even brought the headphones, so you won’t hear much, okay?” He laid Jamie back down with the laptop and headphones. He smiled softly at him and kissed his forehead. “I love you, James.”

\--

“I’m home! Where’s my lovely Omega to greet me?”

Paul jolted. He quickly moved out of the kitchen into the den where Mason was stood grinning. When he saw Paul, he smiled even wider. “Are you gonna give me a welcome home kiss?” He teased.

Paul smiled and moved forward to place a soft kiss on his Alpha’s lips. “Welcome home, Luv,” he whispered against Mason’s lips.

Mason hummed and deepened the kiss, his hands moving to Paul’s waist. “My God, you are lovely. What have I done to deserve a Mate like you?”

“Something terrible, I imagine,” Paul laughed, arms coming up around Mason’s neck.

“Mm, I would, y’know,” Mason murmured, moving to place feather-light kisses along Paul’s jaw. Paul closed his eyes and he tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck further. “Would what?” He breathed.

Mason kissed down Paul’s neck, stopping briefly to bite hard at Paul’s throat. “Do something horrible for you.” He kissed the mark he left before pulling away entirely to look Paul in the eye, a fierce intensity in his gaze. “I’d kill for you.”

Paul felt frozen, all the comfort from a moment ago gone. Paul swallowed. “I’d never ask you to.”

Mason’s gaze softened. “I know,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup Paul’s cheek. “You’re my innocent, little Omega. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Paul had gotten used to Mason’s condescending, patronizing way of talking to him and knew how to pretend that it didn’t bother him, but it did. He wasn’t a little, helpless Omega, incapable of taking care of himself. In fact, despite what Mason seemed to believe, Paul took care of all three of them. Mason did nothing.

Paul nuzzled Mason’s hand, ignoring the bitter resentment he felt deep down. “I’m yours,” He murmured. Mason’s eyes darkened. He slid his hand from Paul’s cheek to his throat, gently squeezing. Paul swallowed nervously. “Yes, you are,” Mason said quietly.

They stayed like that for a moment before Mason shifted his eyes back to Paul’s, his gaze softening again. “Baby,” he murmured, lightly moving his fingers across Paul’s bruised cheek. “Why do you make me do this? I hate hurting you.”

Paul let out a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, tears pricking his eyes. God, he hated this. He hated how awful he felt about angering his Alpha, he hated how much he had to grovel, he hated how much he wanted to please him, but worst of all – _he hated that he was still here._ Fuck.

Mason sighed, dropping his hand. “What’ve you made for dinner?” he asked, moving around Paul toward the kitchen. Paul sniffed, following his Alpha. “I’ve made your favorite,” Paul offered, trying to pull himself together. God, he felt disgusting.

Mason glanced at him. “Sheppard’s pie?” Paul nodded. Mason hummed. “Why?” he asked, and Paul felt his stomach drop.

“Uh, well – I uh, um…” Paul tried to concentrate but Mason was already angry. Fuck fuck _fuck –_

“What have you done?” Mason asked, voice frigid.

Paul took a deep breath, eyes on the floor. “I haven’t done anything, Mason. I just have some news.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Mason was moving toward him rapidly. Paul gasped as he was shoved roughly against the wall.

With one hand Mason pinned one of Paul’s wrists to the wall, and with the other, he gripped Paul’s throat. “Are you leaving me?” he snarled. Paul’s eyes widened and he desperately tried to shake his head, but Mason just tightened his grip. Paul’s eyes were wild with panic and with his free hand, he tried to break Mason’s grip on his throat. “You lying bitch. What else could you have to tell me? You’ve found another Alpha? Fucking horseshit.” He threw Paul to the ground where Paul lay gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face. “Mason, no no, I’m not leaving, of course I haven’t found another Alpha!”

“You’re damn right you haven’t,” Mason snapped. He pulled Paul up to a sitting position by his hair and then brought his hand down hard against his face. He repeated the motion twice more before finally leaving Paul lying on the floor, crying, curled in a ball. Mason stood above him, panting. “What’s your fucking news, bitch?” He spat.

Paul shook, fear and anxiety wracking his body.

“I’m pregnant,” he said, voice muffled in his elbow.

Paul flinched as hands grabbed at him, pulling him up.

“You’re pregnant?” Mason asked.

Paul nodded, hoping to god Mason wouldn’t get angry again.

“Baby, that’s amazing!” Mason exclaimed, wrapping Paul in a tight hug. “Why didn’t you say so?” He pulled back to gently wipe the tears from his face. “Baby, I wouldn’t have punished you so harshly if you’d just told me and not let me think you were sleeping around.”

Paul felt empty as Mason hugged his stiff form.

\--

As they ate on the couch, brand new bruises marring Paul’s pale skin, Paul had an epiphany. He hated Mason’s guts for the things he did to him and the things he did to their son. He hated the fact that he was trapped here, cut off from his family and friends. He hated himself for letting it get this bad in the first place. But what really hit him, what really made him freeze with his fork halfway to his mouth, was the fact that he was bringing a child into this. When he had Jamie, it hadn’t been like this. But with this baby… He was making the decision to bring them into this horrible mess and the horrible misfortune of Mason as a father. He felt like things were moving in slow motion. He looked over at Mason, laughing at whatever they were watching. He glanced at Jamie’s door, behind which his son was eating by himself, afraid and alone. He glanced down at his arms, the bruises on his wrists just visible where his sleeve was riding up.

Holy fuck. He needed out.

He couldn’t do this to Jamie.

He couldn’t do this to the baby.

He couldn’t do this to himself.

\--

A week later, Saturday night. Mason was going to be out all weekend. Paul spent the entire day packing everything he and Jamie would need, not that they were going far. He’d waited until 2 in the morning to gather his suitcase and Jamie’s backpack and then he went to wake Jamie up. He sat on the edge of Jamie’s bed and gently stroked his hair. “Sweetheart, we’ve got to go, okay? Mummy’ll carry you, but we’ve got to get moving.”

“Where are we going?” He murmured groggily as Paul gently lifted him in his arms.

“To a friend’s house. You can sleep on the way there.”

Once Paul had Jamie in his coat and shoes, he quietly made his way out of their building and to the nearest bus stop. Fifteen minutes later they were gone, away to find a safer place. Paul took a deep breath, anxiety and amazement warring in his mind. He felt free. He was leaving the shithole that had been his life for a brighter, uncertain future.

Paul yawned. God, being up this late plus all of this emotional turmoil had him fucking exhausted. He felt himself nodding off when his bag fell off the seat and jerked him awake. He glanced out the window and tried hard to figure out what he was going to say. A minute later, the bus stopped to let them off and Paul thanked the bus driver as he got off. The apartment building he was looking for was only three blocks away, which didn’t give him much time to think and, to be honest, he was far too tired to think anyway. Once he found the right place and finally made it up the four flights of stairs, he found himself in front of apartment 402 B. He was still so tired. He barely managed to lift his arm enough to knock.

He waited.

And waited.

…and waited.

Had he even knocked in the first place, or did he just imagine that he did? Or was everyone asleep? Maybe he had the wrong apartment. He was so tired that he was considering just sitting down in the doorway and taking a nap when the door swung open, revealing a tall, grumpy-looking Alpha in glasses.

He raised an eyebrow. “What can I do for Mr. Mummy, at three in the fucking morning?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Paul couldn’t even be angry. He just didn’t have the energy.

“Does George Harrison live here?” he asked instead. Grumpy Alpha paused. “Who are you?” He asked.

“Paul McCartney. We’re friends from school.”

Grumpy Alpha’s eyes widened. “Paul McCartney?” Paul nodded. “Fuck-“ Grumpy Alpha said and then he shut the door in Paul’s face. Paul stood there in complete confusion until the door opened again and oh, oh _god – _

“George,” He breathed, tears coming to his eyes. Fuck, he was a mess. George’s wide, teary eyes flicked from Paul’s face to the little boy in his arms and then back to Paul’s face. Paul gasped as George launched himself at Paul, wrapping him in a tight, bone-crushing hug. Paul took deep breaths of George’s wonderful scent and yep, there the tears go. “Fuck, Georgie, I missed you,” he cried into George’s shoulder. George hugged him harder. “I missed you, too, Paul. So much. So, so fucking much.”

Paul buried his face in George’s neck, silently thinking that this was exactly what they’d been missing – fierce, unwavering love.


	2. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Paul catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg you guys i actually updated at a normal interval

“Mummy?”

Paul fought to open his eyes before Jamie poked him again.

“Yeah?” he mumbled, gently stroking his son’s soft, messy hair.

“Is it time to get up, yet?” Jamie asked, squirming in Paul’s arms. “I’m hungry.”

Paul yawned. “What time is it?” he said, slowly sitting up and looking around the room. George had been kind enough to let them use his room the night before and Paul couldn’t have been more grateful. He was surprised that George’s scent still had that wonderful calming effect on him, even after all these years.

“It’s 8:30!” Jamie said, climbing into Paul’s lap. Paul smiled. Despite his exhaustion, Jamie’s enthusiasm was refreshing enough to get him out of bed. Clearly, George’s scent had a similar effect on his son.

He held Jamie as he made his way down the hall. His stomach grumbled as the smell of pancakes reached them. Jamie wiggled in his grasp until Paul set him down and then he took off into the kitchen, excitement etched on his face. Paul quickly followed, worried that Jamie would be in the way of whoever was cooking.

He paused when Jamie came running back, hiding behind his legs. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, laying his hand on Jamie’s hair. A second later George emerged, long hair tied up in a messy bun and pancake batter splattered all over his shirt.

Paul snickered. “Have you actually gotten anything in the pan, Geo?”

The smile George had walked in with immediately fell when he saw Paul.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, horrified.

Paul’s stomach dropped, panic taking over his mind. Was George angry with him? Should he not have spoken that way with him? Oh god, he probably was being too familiar, they hadn’t spoken in five years, _of course,_ George would be upset –

He startled when George touched his cheek, jerking away before he thought better of it. George looked stunned.

Oh.

God, he forgot about the bruises. He normally covered up the visible ones with makeup, but he’d taken it off before he went to sleep.

Paul bit his lip nervously, hand firmly keeping Jamie behind him. “How about we eat and then I try to, uh… explain, a bit?”

George took a deep breath and then the smile was back. “Alright.”

They small talked while George finished the last of the pancakes, both laughing as Jamie devoured pancake after pancake as quickly as possible. “Okay, slow down,” Paul laughed, gently placing his hand on the back of Jamie’s neck. Jamie hummed, leaning back into Paul’s hand. Paul smiled, moving his hand up into Jamie’s hair to tussle it.

Once Jamie was finished, Paul got him set up on the couch with the TV so that he and George could have some privacy. They were going to need it for this conversation.

George was waiting for him with a cup of tea, clearly trying not to look too eager to start. Paul took a deep, slow breath as he sat down and picked up his mug. “Should I start at the beginning?” He asked, sipping his tea and eyeing George warily.

George smiled. “Start wherever you’re comfortable.”

Paul hummed. “I’ll just start at the beginning, fill you in on everything you didn’t know then and, uh, explain this,” Paul said, gesturing hesitantly to his face.

“So, um. You remember Mason, yeah?”

George nodded.

“Alright so, a little after school ended, we realized I was pregnant. I told Da and he was actually really chill about it, was even kind of excited about the idea of having a baby in the house. But, uh, he didn’t want Mason in the picture. He told me that if he was going to help me, I’d have to leave Mason. And that was hard. I decided that, since Mason never made me choose between him and my family, I’d choose him.”

Paul paused, nibbling his finger nervously.

“I know everyone hated Mason and I can see now why, but I didn’t see it then. I didn’t realize that I was separating myself from my friends and family. It just felt like spending a lot of time with a friend. But once Da kicked me out, I moved in with Mason and that was all I could think about. I only had him and the baby for a while. Every once and a while I did think about texting you and Mike and Ivy, y’know. I just always told myself that it would lead to an unnecessary fight with Mason, so I stopped trying. I know that that should have been a warning sign,” Paul said to George’s frustrated expression. “But I just… I don’t know. I didn’t see it.” He shrugged and sipped his tea. He was trying really hard not to sound as anxious as he felt.

“The first two years weren’t awful, though. A little lonely, but it was okay because I had Jamie. Mason kind of left all of the childcare to me, which was frustrating. Especially because his logic was that he worked all day and shouldn’t have to do more when he got home, but I also worked full time. At that time, I actually had two jobs – I was a waiter at this shitty Mexican place by where we used to live and then I also worked at that Irish pub off Lime Street. We got into a fight about it one night because I was exhausted, Jamie wouldn’t stop crying and Mason just wasn’t helping at all… I don’t remember how it started, but that was the night he hit me for the first time.”

He could feel George’s eyes on him, but he was watching Jamie on the couch. He was engrossed in some cartoon, arms around a pillow, looking more relaxed in a stranger’s home than he ever had in their flat.

“Looking back, I should have left then. At the time, though, Mason seemed so upset that he’d hurt me, I thought for sure he’d never do it again. And then he did. And it got worse. About a year ago Mason and I were trying to look for good primary schools for Jamie. Mason was really excited about it and was trying to get Jamie excited, too, but Jamie didn’t want to go to school. When Jamie started crying, Mason hit him. That’s the only time I’ve ever actually lost it with Mason. I pulled Mason away from him and then I took the brunt of that beating. It scared the hell out of Jamie. He’s still not very comfortable around Alphas.”

Paul winced and pulled his finger from his mouth, a small trail of blood leaking from his battered nail.

“I know I should have left years ago. If not for myself, then definitely for Jamie,” he whispered, leaning forward on the table. “But honestly, Geo, the only reason I did leave was because… I’m pregnant. Again.”

Paul stared at the table, unable to look George in the eye. He didn’t want George to see him cry.

He gave himself another minute to pull himself together, then lifted his head to wipe his eyes. “God, I’m pathetic. Look at me, crying like a little kid.”

“It’s not pathetic, Paul,” George said quietly. He moved so that he was sitting closer, then gently placed his hand on Paul’s. “I’m glad you left and I’m glad you came here. You can stay as long as you need.”

Paul held George’s eyes for a moment, feeling choked. “Thank you,” he murmured, leaning close to press his face into George’s neck, breathing the wonderful, calming scent of _George_ and _pack_.

“Well, well, well. Does Pattie know about him?” Paul jumped, turning to see Grumpy Alpha make his way into the kitchen.

“Piss off, John,” George grumbled, gently pulling Paul back to his neck and running his hand comfortingly through Paul’s hair.

“Well, someone’s pissy today,” John said, turning around with a pancake in his hand. As soon as he saw Paul, his eyes went wide. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Paul pulled away from George, cheeks bright red. “John, please,” George muttered, exasperated.

John glanced at George briefly before nodding. “Yeah, uh. Sorry.” He sat down awkwardly. “Are you alright?”

Paul nervously looked from George to John. “Uh, yeah, thanks. I’m alright.”

“I was just telling Paul that he could stay here for a while. Does that work for you?” George watched John as he asked, but left his hand on Paul’s, giving it a light, comforting squeeze.

John looked between the two of them, eyes unreadable. After an agonizing minute where Paul was certain the Alpha was going to send him packing, John rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me, son. It’s your place,” he said.

George huffed but didn’t reply.

John stood up and spun around, sliding over the wood floor in his socks. “Should be fine, just so long as you pay rent,” he singsonged on his way into the living room.

“Well, of course! I didn’t plan on mooching!” Paul spluttered indignantly. George laughed loudly. “I’m serious, Geo! I’m not going to abuse your generosity. There’s no reason you should let me stay – none at all. I dropped you years ago, without an explanation and then I just pop in out of nowhere and ask for a place to stay, I know _exactly_ what it seems like and it’s _not that._ I just – “ Paul faltered, biting his lip. He’d been shouting and now John, George, Jamie, and _another Alpha?_ were all staring at him like he was crazy, and he couldn’t help the blush that crept into his cheeks. “I just need to shut up,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands in embarrassment. George laughed heartily and wrapped Paul in a bear hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna do my best not to jinx this


	3. Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall I'm doing it, I'm really doing it!!!

Paul had only been at George’s place for two weeks, but he loved it. He learned that George shared a flat with two Alphas; John Lennon (AKA Grumpy Alpha), a temperamental but kind aspiring writer, and Richard Starkey (or Ringo Starr, as Paul learned the others called him teasingly), a gentle hairdresser. George worked as the sous chef at a nice little Italian place just a couple blocks away (though apparently he hated working there and was looking for somewhere else – Paul had suggested the little pub he worked at, but he assumed that Ringo and John’s raucous laughter was a pretty strong indicator that it had been a semi-offensive suggestion.) They were a nice little pack and Paul had very little trouble fitting in, at least with George and Ringo. His only trouble was that John seemed to dislike him, which bothered Paul a lot. John was clearly the pack Alpha, so being accepted by him was kind of important to feel at home.

Paul bit his finger as he tried to think of things he could have done to piss John off. Nothing came to mind. He’d tried to stay out of everybody’s way as much as possible since he moved in, tried not to take up too much space, tried not to let Jamie run wild – not that that was proving to be too much of an issue. Jamie was terrified of John and Ringo, didn’t want to be anywhere near them. He seemed to be fine with George, though, probably since he was a Beta. Paul jolted as the bus turned, sending him into the woman next to him. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized, grateful when the woman smiled and shrugged it off.

So John. Hm. That sure was a pickle. He debated what to do the rest of the way to work, upset by how much he wanted to please this stupid Alpha that he didn’t even know. It wasn’t until he clocked in that he was able to let his thoughts fade. He just needed something else to focus on. He worked as a waiter at a small family-owned pub and grille, not too far from where he lived with Mason, which had originally been part of the appeal. Now, though, it was more of a hindrance. If Mason knew where he worked, he was likely to show up at some point. To do what, Paul wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to find out. Mason was extremely possessive. So far, though, Mason hadn’t come.

Hopefully, he never would.

***

Paul was panicking. The girl who was supposed to take over his shift hadn’t shown up yet and it was already _3:00._ There was no way he would be able to make it to pick Jamie up. Normally, Jamie could take the bus by himself if he needed to, but since they’d left Mason, he’d been terrified that he’d try to take Jamie away from him. And there was the issue that they now lived much further from the school and Paul was only comfortable letting Jamie take the bus alone for so far.

Nancy, one of the owners and one of the kindest bosses he’d ever had, took pity on him and let him step out briefly to try and call someone to pick Jamie up. First, he tried George, but –

_“I’m so sorry, Paul, but I’m working until 11 tonight.”_

“It’s fine, George, thanks anyway.”

Fuck.

Next, he had to try Ringo. Not ideal, but Jamie was slightly less afraid of Ringo than John.

“Hey, Ringo, so sorry to bother you. I know we don’t know each other very well and this might be asking too much, but I was wondering if there was any way you might be able to pick my son up from school? It’s just that I’m stuck at work for at least another couple hours and I don’t want him to go all the way back to the flat by himself.”

_“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry! I’m not off for another two hours. But-“ _Ringo started before Paul could start freaking out. _“John could get him.”_

Paul squeezed his eyes shut.

“Thanks, mate. I’ll call him.”

_“Good luck!”_

“Thanks.”

He hung up; his stomach twisted itself up in knots. Talking to John was the last thing he wanted to do. But _Jamie._

He groaned and pulled up John’s contact, ignoring the shaking of his hand as he hit the green call button. He kept his eyes shut as he waited for John to answer, anxiety fluttering in his chest.

_“Hello?” _

Paul stood completely still, as if John could see him.

“Hey, John. It’s Paul. I’m so sorry to bother you, but are you doing anything in an hour?”

It was quiet for a moment, and then –

_“Are you asking me out?”_

Paul’s eyes shot open, his cheeks flushing indignantly.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I’m stuck at work for the next couple of hours because the girl who was supposed to take over my shift never showed up, so I need someone to pick Jamie up from school.”

_“He can’t take the bus?”_

Paul started pacing, knowing he had to explain his nerves, but feeling completely uncomfortable. Outside of that initial conversation with George, he hadn’t mentioned anything about Mason or his life the last couple of years.

“He can,” he started hesitantly.

_“But?” _John drawled, impatient.

Paul clenched his teeth. “But… it’s not safe,” he finished lamely.

_“Oh, come on. He’s not dumb enough to get himself kidnapped, is he?”_

“Oh, fuck off,” Paul snapped. God, why did he want this dick’s approval anyway? “He’s five years old, you dick. I don’t want him going all the way across Liverpool on his own.”

_“What’s so bad about that? I did it all the time when I was a kid.”_

Paul tried to take deep breaths, anxiety and anger warring to make his head fuzzy. “I didn’t ask what you did when you were little, did I? All I asked was if you could pick my son up, but obviously that’s asking too much. Sorry for bothering you.”

_“Okay, relax, relax, don’t get all pissy, princess. I’ll pick him up. But seriously, what are you so afraid of?”_

“His father,” Paul answered coldly. And then, softer, “Thank you. I’ll probably be home around 5.”

He hung up before John could answer, taking a minute to breathe slowly until his chest loosened, then walked back into the restaurant.

***

John waited impatiently with the other parents, ignoring the judgmental looks he was being given. He couldn’t have stood out more if he tried – leather jacket, green wool hat, striped scarf, ripped jeans and converse. It was kind of funny, honestly.

But he also didn’t want to be here. He didn’t _hate _children, per se, but he didn’t get them. They confused him too much. The only kids he’d ever really been good with were his little sisters, but they were different. They were his _sisters_. It didn’t help here that he knew that this particular kid didn’t like him. Every time he accidentally made eye contact with him, he’d run away - usually to find his mother.

It hurt a little to think that maybe Jamie was afraid of him. But whatever, it kept him out of John’s hair. Now, _Paul_, though. He was a different story. John didn’t know what to make of him. On the one hand, he felt pissed about George just welcoming him back after being ignored for some guy for _five years_ – but also, he supposed that was just what George was like. A good guy. For the most part. He definitely had a side of him you didn’t want to cross.

On the other hand, though, Paul had had the shit kicked out of him since then, so was it really fair to hold it against him that he had afraid to go against his Alpha? John had a tendency to stay in bad situations out of desperation, too. He supposed he could maybe _try_ to be a little nicer to him. He did feel a little guilty about their phone call earlier – even if he didn’t like Paul (but there was also something so intriguing about him that John couldn’t put his finger on), he could at the very least make sure the guy’s kid was okay. It’s not like Jamie asked to be thrust into this situation.

So here John was, waiting for the little kiddies to come out along with all the other parents, gradually wanting more and more to sink into a hole and die. It was cold as _shit_ and there were _kids_ and _parents_ and _God. _He should have just left Paul to figure it out.

_“His father.”_

John felt himself stiffen. Right. That was the real reason he was doing this. No matter how much he struggled with Paul, he wasn’t about to let either of them get re-trapped by an Alpha who abused them.

He spotted Jamie stood frozen in the yard in the middle of the kids swarming toward their parents, eyes locked on John. John forced a smile to his face, although it probably looked more like a grimace, and then gave a small, awkward wave. Slowly Jamie began moving forward again and as he got closer John felt the looks from the other parents getting more intense, less reigned in. Jamie stopped in front of him, wide eyes flickering anxiously from him to the surrounding families. They came back to John, strangely firm despite his apparent fear.

“Where’s my mum?” he asked quietly.

“At work. He sent me to pick you up,” John answered, overly aware of the nosy looks from the other parents. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, turning to walk away.

“Wait – Jamie, what are you doing?”

John turned back around to see a tall guy squeezing through the crowd of families, dirty blonde hair tussled unattractively from the wind and clothes rumpled as if he’d chosen something to wear from his bedroom floor. As soon as he was through, he rushed toward Jamie and scooped him up in his arms.

“What are you doing going somewhere with a strange Alpha?” he asked harshly, looking at Jamie, worried. And then he turned his gaze to John, eyes cold and angry. “What the hell do you think you’re doing kidnapping my son?”

John felt very confused. This guy wasn’t the kind of Alpha he pictured when he saw the bruises all over Paul’s body – those had been alarming. Black eye, bruised cheek, bruises all down his arms, _on his neck. _But this guy was tall and lanky, John couldn’t see any evidence of any muscle _at all_. Paul looked like he could crush this guy. But Jamie was squirming in his arms, clearly trying to get away from him. Mason turned his attention back to Jamie and finally let him down, and immediately Jamie ran to John and hid behind his legs. Mason looked stunned. 

“Paul sent me to pick him up,” John finally said, carefully, hand unconsciously moving to rest on Jamie’s head.

Mason’s look went from shocked to terrifying – eyes dark and menacing. “You’re the Alpha he left me for, aren’t you?” he snarled.

John felt, then, that he understood why Jamie was trembling behind him. John had issues with emotional stability, but he certainly didn’t have anything to this extreme. Mason was shaking with fury, fists clenched and eyes wild. He was the kind of guy who flicked from one extreme to another with the slightest touch. Jamie was peeking behind John’s legs, but John gently pushed him further behind him.

“What does it matter? He clearly wanted to be away from you. He wants you to stay away from him and Jamie, alright?” John was trying to stay calm because of how freaked out Jamie was, but it was difficult with a threat like Mason and the eyes of all the families watching them – _doing nothing._

“Paul is _my Omega._ Don’t you dare suggest that you know what he wants better than I do. And Jamie is _my son._ You don’t have any right to him. So, give him back,” Mason growled.

John looked at him for a second, assessing briefly if fighting this guy would end badly for Jamie – _probably._

He turned around, picked Jamie up, and walked away.

_“Get back here!”_

John kept walking.

A hand on his shoulder turned him and then Mason was in his face, trying to grab Jamie out of his arms. Before John could do anything, a woman was running up to them. John watched, amazed, as she swung her water bottle up and then brought it down hard on Mason’s back. Mason cried out in pain, jerking away. He turned angrily to the woman. She held the water bottle up again threateningly.

“Don’t you even think about it, Mason,” she snarled. “Get out of here, you’ve caused enough of a scene already. If you really want Jamie that badly, bring it to court.”

They held each other’s gazes before another tense moment before Mason finally backed off. “Fine. I’ll get them both back, just watch me. Crazy bitch,” he spat. And then he was gone, turning to stalk back through the throng of stunned families.

“You guys, too, get out of here! Why do you always feel like everything’s your frickin’ business?” she called to school crowd. As if waking from a trance, everyone began moving again, working their way slowly home.

The woman looked at John, assessing. He hoped to God she could see how panicked he felt. She scoffed and then said, “Give ‘im here, then.”

John complied, startling himself. She held Jamie carefully, combing her fingers through his hair soothingly. “Paul stuck at work, then?” she asked.

John nodded, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s always working ‘cuz Mason doesn’t do jackshit. Anyway,” she said, looking back at him. “I’m Linda. Who are you and why are you picking Jamie up?”

“John Lennon. Paul’s staying at my best mate’s flat right now and I was the only available to pick him up,” he answered, nodding at Jamie.

Understanding flickered over Linda’s face. “Ah, gotcha. Are you the writer or the hairdresser?” she asked.

John narrowed his eyes. “Does he talk about us?” he asked suspiciously. She laughed lightly.

“Of course, he does,” she said. “At least a little. Paul and I see each other all the time. Our kids are friends.”

Ah. That made sense.

Linda smiled sadly at the top of Jamie’s head. “It’s a shame, huh?” she said quietly.

John wanted to ask her what she meant, but before he had the opportunity Linda was thrusting Jamie back into his arms.

“Take him home, he needs to chill out a little bit,” she said. “Bye Jamie, I’ll see you later, yeah? You’re coming over to see Heather Saturday, right?”

“Yeah!” Jamie said, sounding much more relaxed than he ever had in John’s presence before.

“Great!” Linda said, pumping her fist up. “See you Saturday, Jamie!”

“Bye, Linda!” Jamie waved after her as she walked away.

“You ready to go?” John asked him, and it was like time had reversed. Jamie looked at him, eyes big and afraid. He swallowed nervously and nodded. “Can-can I get down?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

John set him down. It was a long, uncomfortable walk to the bus stop; Jamie didn’t seem to want to be close to him anymore. John was pretty sure he didn’t like that, which confused him. He thought he didn’t like kids. But he supposed there was something instinctive in him that wanted to make sure he was safe. That was the only possibility he was willing to entertain.

But when Jamie fell asleep against his arm on the bus, he had to admit it made him feel pretty content. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 title - arms by Christina Perri  
chapter 2 title - Coming Home by Skylar Grey  
chapter 1 title - I've Had Enough by Wings  
story title - Must Do Something About It by Wings


	4. Overwhelming

_“He what?!”_

John had to admit, despite how dangerous the situation was, it was kind of funny to see Paul stood stalk-still and wide-eyed in the kitchen, knife poised forgotten over the cucumber he’d been cutting.

_(Though it was way too close to Paul’s delicate fingers for John to feel even remotely comfortable-)_

John shook himself. What the _fuck_ was that kind of thinking? _Delicate fingers?_

Trying to play it cool, he leaned back in his chair. He was sat at the kitchen table where he’d been watching Paul cook. Something about his rhythmic cutting and the crackling from the pan on the stove was soothing. Then Paul had to ask about Jamie and then everything shifted –

“Listen, it was fine. I got him home, right? Everything worked out,” John said, trying to keep his voice and demeanor relaxed in the face of Paul’s worsening trembling. Paul closed his eyes and leaned over the counter.

“Fuck,” he whispered, sounding choked and instantly John was taken over with panic.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine! Please don’t cry,” John said, panicking. God he really didn’t want to upset Paul anymore, he couldn’t handle anyone crying, especially not a goddamn _Omega_ – it made his head all weird and frantic.

Paul took a shaky breath. “I just- what the hell am I supposed to do?” he muttered, and _fuck_, there went the tears. Now John was truly fucked. _Especially _if George came home. “Mason’s _crazy. _He could have seriously hurt Jamie – and _you._ If Linda hadn’t been there… Fuck, I don’t even want to think about it,” Paul made a disgusted face. “I’m his _mother. _I should be able to do more than fucking –“ he looked at his hand angrily, _“shake_.” Paul wiped his eyes, frustration seeping through every move.

John felt really weirdly uncomfortable watching Paul cry. Like _really_ uncomfortable. He knew it was probably something instinctual because Paul was a vulnerable, _pregnant_ Omega, which kind of made the whole thing worse. He didn’t sign up for _any _of this and he shouldn’t have to deal with it.

John stood up and made his way to Paul, hesitating just a moment before tugging him into a hug. Paul stiffened in his arms for a second before relaxing, bringing his arms around John’s waist.

They stood like that for a minute, John quietly providing comfort for the distraught Omega. Finally, John broke the silence.

“I don’t know why I’m hugging you, I don’t even _like _you,” he muttered. He realized too late that that was probably the wrong thing to say. But Paul only laughed, the sound soothing and unexpected.

“I know,” Paul said softly, face pressed to John’s shoulder. “Thanks, though.”

Paul stepped back and John found himself really wishing he hadn’t. Fuck, this sucked.

Paul wiped his eyes, unable to meet John’s, but John was really enjoying the soft blush on his cheeks. Once again, John had to remind himself, _he didn’t like Paul. _Except that he kind of did. Fucking confusing _instincts_. Paul turned back to his cutting board, picking up the knife. “I have to find something to do about Jamie,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t just broken for a second. “I can’t always be there, and there’s no way that Mason’s actually giving up after just one shot. You think I should ask Linda if she could pick him up?”

John didn’t like that. Mm-mm, nope. Not at all.

“I can pick him up,” he offered, also completely against his will. Fucking Paul and his stupid fucking eyelashes, still wet with tears, and his stupid Omega wiles, his goddamn pregnancy – just, fucking _Paul._

Paul turned to him, surprised. “Really? Are you sure?” he asked. John nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I totally got it, don’t even worry.”

Paul eyed him strangely. “Are you okay?” he asked, moving forward to gently place his hand on John’s forehead, and okay, sure, Paul was just making sure that he was okay, but like, he really shouldn’t have been allowed to touch him – like _at all_ – because now John couldn’t focus on anything but where Paul was touching him, the smell of him, sweet – an image of a meadow popped suddenly into his head – the honeyed scent of his pregnancy that would only get stronger, freshly mown grass, and lavender –

Paul hummed and stepped back, taking the strength of his scent with him, leaving only the softest traces of it behind – _oh. _Paul must have been on scent-blockers, that was why he couldn’t smell anything unless he was close enough.

“Well, you don’t seem feverish, which means you’re just weird or there’s something you don’t want to talk about,” Paul said, turning back to his cutting board. John was confused as to why Paul looked so angry; shouldn’t it be good that he didn’t have a fever? Paul’s face was also closer than it had been a minute ago, when did that happen?

“What the hell, John, let go,” Paul snapped, yanking his wrist out of John’s grasp. John was confused – when had he grabbed Paul’s wrist?

“You should let me do that,” he said instead of asking what was going on, except, no that made sense – Paul shouldn’t be near anything _sharp_, like a _knife. _God, he probably would have killed himself ten times over if John hadn’t been there to point out the dangers of cutting vegetables.

Paul looked affronted. “I can cut a goddamn _cucumber_, John. Christ, what has gotten into you?” he demanded, holding his hand out for the knife back. Was Paul trying to test him, to see if he was really safe here? Paul’s last Alpha was clearly a piece of shit who let Paul put himself in danger all the time, which was terrible, _disgusting. _John wasn’t going to put Paul in that position, he should just be relaxing, not doing taxing things like _standing_.

“John, give me back the knife,” Paul said, clearly losing his patience. John shook his head and stepped back.

“No,” he said, keeping the knife out of Paul’s reach. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Paul was still for all of two seconds before he lost it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped. “I can’t handle a goddamn _cucumber_? What the fuck am I going to do, cut all my fingers off? I didn’t realize you were this fucking superior, that you think I can’t fucking do anything on my own? I’ve been on my own for _five fucking years_, you prick. I know how to take care of myself, I’ve somehow even managed to take care of a kid, too! _Crazy_ thought, I know! A poor, helpless fucking Omega, there’s no way he can do anything! Jesus Christ, I thought George would better taste in friends than primeval arses like you!” 

John was frozen and it was like some sort of fog had cleared in his head and he was left blubbering, eyes moving from Paul to the knife he still held, and then back to Paul again.

“What’s going on?”

They both looked over at Ringo, Paul still red with anger and John pale on the other side of the room holding the knife away from his body like he thought it would burn him.

“John apparently lives in the goddamned 12th century,” Paul snapped.

John stammered, trying to find a defense but he couldn’t think, it was like he’d been momentarily possessed.

Ringo gave John a once-over. A moment later the knife was back in Paul’s hand and Ringo was dragging John down the hallway, promising Paul to knock some into him. Ringo brought them both into John’s room and closed the door.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he was sure Paul wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“I – Ritch, I swear I have _no fucking clue._ It was like, one second we were fine, we were talking about Jamie and then – fuck, I don’t know. The next he was touching my forehead and I could smell him and then I had the knife and it just – it seemed like such a bad idea to let him have it, because he could, like, hurt himself, y’know? Like, he could cut himself on it or fall on it or slip and stab himself in the neck or –“

“Okay, John, I get it,” Ringo said, stopping him with a weird cross between disgust and amusement on his face.

John looked at him hopelessly. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he asked, tugging lightly at his hair.

Ringo barely stifled a laugh behind his hand, but it was enough that John’s head shot up.

“You think this is funny?” he asked accusingly.

“Yeah, well. Yeah,” Ringo said, smile softening as he took in John’s expression. “Look, John,” he said, moving to sit down on John’s bed. “I spent a lot of my childhood in the hospital, so I saw a lot of pregnant Omegas and their Alphas. If there was a particularly vulnerable Omega, the Alphas around them were all crazy protective. That’s a whole thing, mate. Paul’s been living with us long enough that he’s becoming more familiar – starting to seem more like pack, y’know? And it’s not helping that he’s come from a bad environment – which you saw firsthand today. It probably sparked up all those protective instincts, which you’re not particularly used to dealing with. There’s a reason those stereotypes about Omegas being unable to care for themselves are still around. It’s not because of them or even whether or not it’s true – it’s because of Alphas who don’t know how to deal with their instincts.”

Oh God, that made _sense._ He sank slowly onto the bed next to Ringo.

After a deep breath, he turned to his still-too-amused friend and asked, “How do I avoid going all crazy when I’m around him, then? I didn’t even realize it was happening today until he freaked out at me.”

Ringo smiled and patted John’s shoulder. “There you go, John, living up to your title of pack Alpha!” John rolled his eyes and shoved Ringo’s hand off lightheartedly while Ringo laughed. “Alright, the easiest thing to do in the moment is question yourself. I know,” he said, cutting off John’s rebuke. “it doesn’t seem like it should be easy, but I promise it is. All you do is ask yourself if you’ve ever thought that before – that question in and of itself should be enough of a reminder for you that your thoughts aren’t on a normal track, and that should bring you back.”

“Okay, but what if I’m so in it that I can’t even begin to think how I’m being weird?” John worried.

“John, you even knew something was off today, right?” John nodded. “Right. So, it should be better now that you know what’s going on.”

John took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, yeah. That makes sense,” he said, still nervous, but feeling incredibly relieved that he had a mate like Ringo.

Ringo patted his back good-naturedly and stood up. “Alright, since you’re all settled, I’m going to go explain things to Paul,” he said with a wink.

Aaannd there goes all that relief. John sunk his head into his hands, the humiliation he felt overwhelming him. This fucking _sucked._

***

Sometimes, Jamie was happy to be invisible. Like, when his parents were fighting, he liked to hide in his room where he couldn’t interfere and make it worse for Mummy, or where he didn’t have to hear any of it. Since they’d come to Uncle George’s flat, he’d found several places where he could hide if he needed to (his favorite place so far was the high shelf in the closet in Uncle George’s room – no one would think to look for him there), though so far he hadn’t needed to hide. There were two Alphas here and somehow, neither one of them had hurt Mummy, yet. They hadn’t even yelled at each other.

Until they did.

School had already been rough. Ms. Powell had moved him away from Heather for talking too much and instead had him sit next to Jordan, who sucked. Jordan made fun of Mummy all the time and it always made him so mad. He’d been extra bad for some reason, probably to see if he could make Jamie cry. Like a butthead.

Then when he’d left, Mummy hadn’t been there. It was the scary Alpha, the one who was mean to Mummy. His first thought had been that he’d done something to his mum, which terrified him. But then, Daddy had shown up and he’d decided that scary Alpha was better than his dad. And then Linda seemed to like him, too.

_(He knew that she never liked his daddy, so maybe scary Alpha was okay?)_

But then scary Alpha made Mummy angry. It had been a while since he’d heard Mummy yell like that. As soon as Jamie heard him raise his voice, he skittered out of the room into Uncle George’s room, into the closet, and up the shelf. He’d left his ds in the den, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but sometime later he could hear Mummy calling for him. He wanted to answer him, but he couldn’t make his voice work. A moment later the closet door opened. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled tighter around himself.

“Oh, Jamie, sweetheart,” Mummy murmured. Jamie felt a warm hand touch his shoulder and he jerked away, shaking.

“Baby, sh. It’s Mummy, Luv, it’s just Mummy.”

Jamie slowly opened his eyes and saw his Mummy’s worried expression. When he raised his arms up, Jamie rushed into them, eager for the comfort his mother provided. Mummy sat them both down on the bed and held him. He pressed his face into Mummy’s neck – his scent was so nice. At some point, someone came in and was talking to Mummy, but he wasn’t scared so neither was Jamie. All he cared about was the arm around him and the gentle hand petting his hair.

“I’m sorry I yelled, Luv,” Mummy whispered into his hair sometime later. Jamie shrugged, still refusing to pull away from his mother’s neck. “It’s alright,” he said quietly. And it was. Jamie knew that his mum didn’t like scaring him, so he wasn’t mad.

And later, when he and Mummy and Uncle George and Ringo and scary Alpha (who Mummy had asked him to start calling _John_) were all sitting together watching _Mulan_, Jamie had to admit that he really didn’t feel all that scared anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys liked this! I've had this idea in my mind for forever and writers block let me write this instead of anything i actually need to write


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